


Penetration

by Lise



Series: Gehenna [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: BDSM, Bloodplay, Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, Control Issues, Dom/sub, Dubious Morality, F/M, Femdom, Knifeplay, Oral Sex, Pain, Rope Bondage, Sexual Content, Sub Loki, Submission, Subspace, Suicidal Thoughts, Top Natasha, Woman on Top, it's not a healthy relationship exactly, it's not quite therapy through sex but sort of, well sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-07
Updated: 2014-04-07
Packaged: 2018-01-18 11:31:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1426888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lise/pseuds/Lise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's always been about control, and the need to lose it. It's why he keeps coming back to her. And it's what Natasha's going to use to keep Loki in line.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Penetration

**Author's Note:**

> I knew I was writing another installment of the Gehenna!verse; I did not expect it to take this long. Ah well. This came out mostly "dubious porn" which wasn't quite what I was going for, but I'm going to embrace it. What is this verse, if not dubious porn? 
> 
> This fic will probably make most sense following the other three in the verse, though it doesn't really require the reading of those. Know that Natasha and Loki have a thing where she uses him sexually and he's really into it though he doesn't want to admit it, and you've basically got the gist. 
> 
> With thanks to my beta, [zaataronpita](http://zaataronpita.tumblr.com).

Something’s gone wrong.

On one level, of course it has – he doesn’t come to her when things are _fine,_ if they ever are. But this was different. Different made her…not nervous. Wary.

Loki was holding too still where he was sitting, too deliberately casual. She’d chosen a SHIELD safe house, this time, and the relatively bare interior of the house only served to let the tension fill the space. She stayed by the door, watching him. His left hand flexed, once.

“Good evening, Lady Romanova.” His voice was smooth, cultured, and she watched him blink, slowly.  Too slowly, she thought, something deliberate and careful about the motion. Like he was only just holding something in. She tensed, minutely.

“Good evening,” she said, after a moment. “Am I supposed to call you Mr…which name are you going by right now?”

His teeth flashed in a too sharp smile. “The same as ever. I am Loki.” Natasha examined him, trying to pin down his mood. She took a step forward, eventually, and he didn’t move.

“Are you going to tell me what’s got you so tense?”

“Do I ever?” Natasha frowned, narrowing her eyes. His hands both moved to rest on his legs, and then he looked at her for the first time, his expression perfectly blank. “Why, _Natasha_. Are you concerned?”

She gave him a look of cool disinterest, though she felt her stomach flutter a warning. “Curious.”

“You should have a care. A dangerous temptation, that.” He stood, suddenly, and took a step toward her. She could almost see him vibrating, and fixed her gaze on his. “Why do you come to me, spider?”

Natasha raised her eyebrows. “We made a deal,” she said, keeping her voice level. It was a touch more complicated than that now, but that was answer enough for him. The rest was hers to deal with. “I hold up my end, you hold up yours. Theoretically, at least, and you’ve behaved so far.” She smiled at him, mirthlessly, but his mouth remained a flat line. She had weapons within reach, of course, but she wasn’t stupid enough to think they’d do much if it came to a physical fight and he meant to win.

“Is that all?”

“Were you expecting something else?” His teeth flashed again, but he turned away. Natasha shifted onto the balls of her feet as she watched his back. Loki said nothing for several long moments, and eventually she raised her voice. “Are you going to get to the point, or…?”

He moved so damn _fast._ One minute he was well away from her, back turned, and the next one of his knives was at her throat and she could feel the fineness of the edge against her skin. One small movement and she didn’t doubt that she wouldn’t have the chance to take another breath. Natasha fell very still and rolled her eyes to look at him.

He smiled at her, sharp and dangerous. “You told me once that you would kill me. Could you still?”

“Not if you cut my throat first,” she said, drily, and raised her eyebrows. She would not waver or show fear, even though her heart was pounding. “Do you want me to?”

The sound from his chest wasn’t quite a growl. “One small motion of my hand would be enough to have you bleeding out on the floor.”

“Yes,” she acknowledged. “But if you were going to kill me you would have done it by now.”

Loki’s teeth bared. “Perhaps I’ve changed my mind.”

“You haven’t.” Natasha narrowed her eyes. _Testing?_ Not quite right. He was good at controlling his face, she couldn’t deny that. But his eyes, and something in his posture… _fear. Anger._ “Drop the knife.” He didn’t move, face twisting. She lifted her chin, just slightly. “Do you want me to kill you?”  His eyes flickered, and she leaned forward, taking a risk, but sure enough, the knife shifted with her. “Do you want to kneel down and let me slit your throat?”

She saw him waver. Just barely visible.

“You never meant me to have this much, did you,” she murmured. “It was just a game. A dangerous one, but all the best ones are. Only now you can’t get out of it. You _need_ me.” She took a step forward, forcing him to move back. “And that scares you, doesn’t it?” His eyes flickered with fury and indignation, and she gave him a thin smile. “Drop the knife.”

“You think you see so much,” he said, his voice tight.

“I do,” she said, smoothly. “You _gave_ me control, Loki. You rolled over and surrendered and I didn’t even have to ask. Do you _really_ expect me to believe that you want it back now?”  Loki’s teeth flashed and she could see his knuckles go white on the hilt of his knife. She waited, keeping herself steady though her heart was pounding.

The knife vanished. Loki took a step back, his teeth still bared. “You think you’ve muzzled the wolf. I can still bite.”

“I don’t think,” Natasha said, letting her eyes bore into him, her voice more certain than she was. “I know.” His tongue flicked out, swiped rapidly across his lips. A nervous gesture.

All of this, she thought, was nervous. Tense and fearful. A cornered animal lashing out, perhaps. Whatever had made him panic about this their little arrangement…

Natasha could see his chest rise and fall, slightly. “Why are you here,” she asked again, quietly. Firm and level. His eyes flicked away from her, and then back.

“What do you want of me,” he demanded. “Do you not have enough, for whatever it is you intend-”

“What do you think I intend?” Natasha interrupted. She could almost see him hovering on the edge. If he hadn’t killed her yet, though, she didn’t think he was going to try now. What he _would_ do…that was a more difficult question. “Loki,” she said, hardening her voice a notch. His eyes focused on her, and she watched his throat bob when he swallowed.

“If you’re going to make an end,” he snapped, at length, “then do it.”

Natasha wondered if he meant that. She suspected he might. There was a certain recklessness, a certain carelessness…

“That’s not an answer,” she said. “Are you here to die?” She watched his right hand flex at his side. He said nothing. Natasha took a step closer. “Do you want me to _hurt_ you?” She let her voice drop into a slightly lower register, and heard his breath catch just slightly.

“Isn’t that what I come to you for?” he said, a little too harshly. “Because you will do such _delightfully_ filthy things to me?”

“That’s not the only reason.” Natasha took another step forward, and he wavered, like he was considering moving back. “If it were just a matter of pain then you wouldn’t need it to be me. Nor would you, I think, be so concerned about it.” His eyes flicked to her and away, his chest rising and falling a little too fast.

“It sounds as though you have some notion. Pray, tell me.”

“I think you want me to pull you apart.” Natasha kept her eyes fixed on Loki, watching him closely for any sudden move, any reaction. “I think you want me to peel away everything that holds you together like layers of skin because you’re _desperate_ to come undone, because you _want_ to be destroyed.” Loki’s throat bobbed as she watched, his nostrils flaring once. His eyes blazed with a sick combination of hatred and need. “You’re waiting for me to destroy you, aren’t you? That’s what you want. And then you wish I would put you back together again. Better, though.” She took another step forward. “New and improved.”

His eyes glazed, very slightly, even as Loki sneered. “You think yourself so clever, so _perceptive…_ ”

“Tell me I’m wrong,” Natasha challenged. “And don’t bother to lie. The way you tip your head for the knife gives it away.”

Loki’s throat bobbed. “And if I accept your judgment?” he said, voice lowering slightly. “If I were to say you were right – what then?”

_Careful, Natasha. You’re holding a grenade. It could go off in your face any minute._ She knew, though. She took a step in, barely a foot away from him now. “Lie down for me,” she said, “and I’ll take you apart.”

She caught the minute shudder before the sneer. “What makes you think you can?” He challenged, arrogance personified. Natasha smiled, a little nastily, and watched his expression flicker.

“Because you’ll let me,” she said. His lips parted just a fraction. “Won’t you?” She reached out, fingers resting lightly on his throat where she could feel his pulse beating. Still fast, but she had him back under control now. More or less.

“Yes,” Loki breathed, barely audible. “I will.”

* * *

A little voice at the back of Natasha’s mind murmured that she was in over her head. That she’d taken this whole _thing_ too far and should have backed out a while ago.

But she hadn’t, Natasha told that cautionary voice, brutally practical. She wasn’t going to leave a job half done.

(If this could really be called a job.)

She bound Loki’s wrists together over his head after he stripped down to bare skin. As always, without the leather he seemed slighter, less dramatically imposing, and Natasha had no doubt that was the reason he wore it. The ropework she used was simple but effective. Loki’s fingers flexed as she pulled the knot snug, and she didn’t doubt he could break free if he wished to, but he didn’t. His eyes followed her, glazed and hungry.

Natasha released his hands once they were tied and let them fall back to the bed. Loki’s fingers flexed again. “You’ve robbed me of one means of pleasing you,” he said, a little bit of the glitter sliding back into his eyes, bravado re-entering his voice.

“I don’t think I’ll feel deprived,” she said dryly, to be cruel, and noted the way his gaze flickered, tongue flicking out to lick his lips. She smiled, very faintly, and added, “I’m sure you can figure something else out.”

Loki’s fingers flicked minutely and Natasha felt a phantom brush of fingers against her thigh. Her whole body snapped taut and she dug her nails into Loki’s side. “No,” she said, sharply, harshly. “No magic.”

The fingers vanished with surprising rapidity. She wondered if he would have pushed, before. “You ruin all my – _ahhh._ ”

She rewarded him with a hand slid up his chest to pinch one of his nipples between her nails. His back arched off the bed and his eyelids fluttered briefly where she watched his face. So expressive, when he wasn’t masking it. And she did enjoy peeling that mask away. His fingers twitched, hands twisting against the rope.

Natasha felt her body warm and loosened the pinch, shifting it to a rub between the pads of her fingers, little circular motions. A low groan vibrated his chest under her hand. “If you think…to undo me with such…”

“I don’t need much,” she said casually. “Look how easily you got on your back for me.” Loki’s head fell back, his throat bared, and she watched the pulse flutter in his throat. “How long have you known?” she asked, conversationally. “That this was what you wanted?”

Loki’s breath caught briefly. “Does it matter?” he said, voice a little thin.

“No.” She swung herself off of him and stripped off her jeans and underwear, then climbed back onto the bed. His eyes followed her, fingers twitching again, and she smiled at him, just a little sharp. “I was just curious.” She slid her right hand down to slip her fingers between the lips of her labia, tongue just touching her teeth. His eyes drifted to her hand and then snapped back to her face.

“Is this your idea of cruelty?” he asked, lips turning up at the corners in a smirk. “Making me _watch?_ ”

Natasha smirked back at him and straddled his chest, reaching up to tie the loose ends of the rope around her headboard so his hands were above his head. Loki huffed a quiet laugh, though she could hear the edge in it.

“If you think _that_ will hold me-”

“Break those,” she said mildly, “and I’ll stop. The point isn’t that you can’t get away. The point is that you won’t. It always has been. I couldn’t rule you if you didn’t want it. And that’s what drives you crazy, because you know it.” She leaned back, took in the faint flush to his cheeks and the fire in his stare with pleasure. “Now,” she said, moving her knees to either side of his head above his shoulders and sliding her fingers into his hair. “I don’t think you need instructions.”

She could see by the way his hands twitched violently that Loki wanted to pull her cunt to his mouth, but with the way she was positioned he had to crane his head for his mouth to reach her. He nuzzled between her legs and Natasha just kept herself from offering any reaction at all. She wouldn’t have expected him to be good at this. Too desperate for his own pleasure to spare the time for hers.

She supposed it made a kind of sense, though. Natasha ran her fingers through his hair, dragging her fingernails over his scalp. “So _eager_ to please,” she murmured, voice just a little barbed. “Get a move on. I’m waiting.”

He licked a stripe across the outer layers of her vulva, then pressed the flat of his tongue up against her and fluttered it. Natasha felt her body jump and her teeth clicked together. He laughed quietly and she grabbed a handful of hair and pulled

“If you’re laughing I don’t think you’re focusing,” Natasha said, lacing the words with just a hint of menace, and his tongue obligingly stiffened and pushed deeper into her folds, licking narrow stripes and drawing little swirls that brushed tantalizingly close to her clitoris. Natasha squeezed her eyes closed, feeling a surge of dampness between her legs. Her fingers tightened, and she ground her hips downward onto Loki’s face, his eager tongue.

She heard his quiet gasp and the low, muffled noise of desire he made into her. His lips worked at her too, now, and she could feel his chest rising and falling rapidly and the little bursts of his breath. She let her hips rock, guiding his mouth and riding his face. Loki moaned, the vibration traveling through the tip of his tongue fluttering against her clitoris and making Natasha’s whole body shudder. _I’ve got you,_ she thought. _I’ve got you now,_ even as her hips bucked and her eyes closed for a moment. “More,” she demanded, and Loki’s attentions redoubled and intensified, lips and tongue working almost frantically as his neck strained. She released her handful of his hair and dragged her fingernails roughly over his scalp to feel Loki gasp into her core.

“So _sensitive_ ,” she said, though her voice was a little ragged, a little breathless. “No wonder it doesn’t take much-”

His tongue flicked her clit and then he was sucking at her and she broke off, an “aaah-” escaping her before she could hold it back. He didn’t laugh, though, eating her out like there was nothing he wanted more, face buried between her legs as she crested.

Natasha cried out as she came, fisting one of her hands in Loki’s hair again to pull his mouth hard against her, hips pulsing unconsciously and her head thrown back as pleasure pulsed through her. The motion of his tongue slowed gradually, easing back to slow, gentle licks over silky wet flesh humming with sensation.

Natasha pushed his head back down and drew away. Loki’s eyes opened, glazed, and he licked his lips. His nose and mouth and cheeks glistened with her arousal and Natasha felt a little thrill deep in her stomach.

She was half tempted to make him go again, to ignore the slightly too rapid rise and fall of his chest and the tension in his arms bound above his head. “You look more…ah…taken apart than I feel,” Loki murmured, and Natasha ran the edge of her nail down his sternum.

“Just getting warmed up,” she said. Loki’s body tensed and shifted under her.

“I don’t need you to start slow,” he said, voice slightly thick. Natasha shifted and leaned down so her lips hovered just above his, not touching.

“I know what you need.” She slid her fingers lightly up his side, tracing his ribs. “Remember? That’s why you came to me.”

Loki’s skin shivered like a horse with a fly. “Natasha,” he said, voice a little rough. Natasha leaned over and opened the bedside table, slowly. His arms tensed, tugging at the rope, then relaxed as she let the fingers of her left hand drift over his throat, lightly brushing the skin of his neck. His head tilted back as though he were making an offering.

“Good boy,” she purred, letting her fingertips linger on the unsteady beat of his pulse. Loki’s face spasmed and he made a sound that attempted to be a snarl.

“Don’t mock me-”

“Hush,” Natasha said, letting her fingers press into flesh just a little; not enough to cut off air but enough to threaten. “No games. You’re not fooling anyone. Least of all me.”

He fell silent, though his eyes blazed for a moment with mingled lust and fury before they closed, his lips parted. She pulled her hand away from his throat. “Do you remember,” she said conversationally, “the first time you came here? I dug a blade into your flesh and you leaned into it, and moaned when I licked your blood off my palm.”

Loki shuddered. “I remember.”

She pulled the switchblade out of her bedside drawer and held it up so he could see it as she flicked the knife out. Natasha gave him her cruelest smile and watched his eyes heat, heard his breathing snag. “You’ll heal, right?” His tongue flicked out, licking his lips quickly.

“I very much doubt you could damage me permanently,” he said, voice just a little strained.

“Good,” Natasha said. “Because I’m not planning to be gentle.” She rested the point of her blade against his cheekbone, not quite breaking the skin, and watched Loki’s eyes flutter closed, his breathing quickening.

“I wouldn’t want you to be,” he said, after a moment, and his voice was just a little faint and breathless. “I – _ah._ ” She flicked her wrist just enough to slice into his cheek, barely drawing a drop of blood before the small cut healed over. He’d felt it, though. Her heart pounded and she took a deep breath through her nose. _Control, Romanov._

“Good,” she said. “This is going to be almost too easy as it is.” Natasha sat up on her knees. She took a moment to admire him, stretched out on the bed, his chest heaving, his eyes opening to fix on her. She shifted her grip on the knife. It fit comfortably into her hand, well balanced, sturdy, familiar.

She pushed the point into flesh just beneath his collarbone.

Loki gasped and jerked, his arms tensing against the bonds, the muscles of his stomach and chest snapping taut. She kept her expression still and dragged the blade along the line of his clavicle, cutting a red line into white flesh. She watched his face, the way his jaw worked, panting exhalations sharp through his nose. Natasha smirked.

“Like I said,” she murmured. “Easy.” She watched the wound heal and then cut it open again, pressing the knife a little deeper, blood welling up around the blade, spilling over the edges of the channel she dug in his flesh. Loki made a low sound, not quite a cry, and she replaced the knife with her fingers, pressing down on the gash even as it began to heal, staining her fingertips and making his whole body twitch.

“You say you want me to pull you apart like you’re not already halfway there,” Natasha said, keeping her voice even, conversational. “Is that why you like it when I use a knife on you? At least then for a little while your outside might look a little more like your inside.”

Loki twitched, his teeth clicking together. She moved her hand down, stroked the knife along the line of one of his ribs, deep enough to slice into muscle. His body tensed again, arms twisting reflexively, but the sound he made was somewhere between a cry and a groan. “Ah – I don’t believe I – hnnh – said I would…”

“Oh, you’re going to answer me.” Natasha interrupted. His eyes flicked to her. “You’re going to answer whatever questions I ask.” She moved down a rib, carved another line into the thin layer of muscle. “So tell me. What is it you think I’ll carve out of you? Or into you, I suppose.”

Loki panted harshly, twice. “You don’t think I just- enjoy the sensation?” She dug the knife in just a little deeper.

“I don’t think that would be enough to get you to come and humiliate yourself in front of me. Not just once, but again and again. You can’t get enough. Of what?”

“Of you, my sweet, beautiful- _gah!_ ” She slashed violently across his pectoral, deeper than before. Loki’s back arched off the bed and the tendons stood out in his neck for a moment.

“Don’t,” she said, not quite harshly. “Don’t even try. I’m not playing games with you. What is it you come to me for? What is it that keeps bringing you _crawling_ back for more?”

Loki’s throat bobbed several times as he swallowed, hard. “Hnnn. What do you want me to tell you?”

“The truth.”

Loki’s teeth flashed in a smile without any joy to it. “You of all people should know that – _ah –_ that is a complicated thing to identify.”

She pressed her palm over the healing slash on his chest and leaned her weight onto it. Loki arched under her, a thin whine slipping through his teeth. When she drew her hand back he made a small noise of protest, squirming, his hips bucking. She smeared his blood on his stomach and pressed the point of her knife just under one nipple, wrist angled so she could flick the blade up and through it. Loki fell still, his eyes very wide. “Nnn- Natasha.”

“Tell me,” she said, implacable. “What can be worse than the fact that you’re rolling over to show your belly to me, the _mewling quim?_ I don’t think you have a lot left to lose. You might as well just give me the rest. And I’ll give you the rest.”

His teeth dug into his lower lip for a moment and then released. “You said it already,” he almost exhaled, eyes closed. “The first time – the first time we _fucked._ I’m here to be _punished._ ”

Natasha cocked her head and instead of up flicked the knife down. Loki let out a shuddering breath, his pulse pounding rapidly under skin damp with sweat. “Is that so? Punished for what?”

“Does it matter?” A shudder ran through Loki’s whole body, under her, his arms tensing against the bonds and then relaxing. “For everything. For nothing. It’s not the why that matters, it’s the – _aa-aaaaah._ ”

Natasha pushed the knife into his side, just an inch, and let it stay there. She could feel him quivering, hear his breath catch on every inhale, and pulled the knife out with a jerk, deliberately rough.

She leaned in. “Tell me what I’m punishing you for.”

Loki’s eyes fluttered and he visibly forced them open, forced his mouth into a smile. “I should think that would be obv-”

She dragged the knife down his sternum and Loki’s voice fractured and broke. His head flung back, eyes fluttering closed, and she watched his throat move as he swallowed convulsively, almost mesmerized. Blood trickled over his sides, tracing the lines of his ribs that stood out against his sweat-sheened skin. Natasha felt a pulse of warmth between her legs.

“Tell me,” she repeated. Loki’s teeth bit into his lower lip and then released it. His chest heaved once.

“You would know better than I,” he said, voice a little ragged. Natasha moved the blade to carve a line between two of his ribs, pushing just deep enough to cut into muscle. Loki’s back arched off the bed and he made a high pitched sound between his teeth.

“What am I punishing you for,” she said, implacable.

“Ah, ah – my wicked deeds,” Loki said, squirming under her. She could feel his hips twitching, and a glance over her shoulder confirmed that his cock was hard and flushed. “My innumerable and ghastly-”

“No,” she said calmly. “I don’t think that’s it.” This time she cut a stripe into the flesh of his stomach, a quick shallow slash. It opened slightly with his sharp breath in. Loki’s teeth clicked audibly together and a low moan vibrated in his chest. His hips bucked underneath her.

“Ah – Natasha, please-”

The cut down his sternum was already healing. Natasha just ghosted the knife’s edge over his skin this time. “Tell me what I’m punishing you for.”

Loki took a few gasping breaths, arching toward the blade like it was a caress. She kept the touch light, refusing to give him fulfillment of any kind. He made a keening noise, his mouth opening. “Loki,” she repeated, and his eyelids fluttered, eyes moving rapidly under the lids.

“For – for- _ah._ I need – do not – do not make me-”

“Tell me,” she said, brutal and implacable, and then did dig the blade in, cutting deep into the muscle of his chest. Loki screamed, thrashing underneath her, his heels hitting the bed hard.

“Because of what I _am!_ ” Loki cried out, voice ragged, the words dragged from him as if with hooks, and Natasha exhaled softly. She pulled the knife back and Loki made a sound in his throat that wasn’t quite a sob. “ _Please._ ”

“Please what,” she said, though her voice sounded quieter, not quite gentler, in her own ears. Loki’s hips thrust upwards but the words that spilled from his lips were not for that kind of release.

“ _Please,_ just drive it in between my ribs, you have a steady hand, finish it _finish it-_ ”

The feeling that swept over and through her was overwhelming, almost dizzying. For a split second she couldn’t breathe. For a split second she almost did it. She dropped the knife over the side of the bed, letting it clatter to the ground. “No.”

Loki let out a faint, strangled whimper. His whole body shuddered. Natasha moved down to straddle his legs and wrapped her hand around the length of his cock, watching his face contort, a faint mewling sound escaping his parted lips.

“I’m not your executioner,” she said, giving a long, slow, tug. His back arched off the bed, but it wasn’t enough. Not nearly. He let out a thin whine. “You really want someone to kill you? Find someone else. I don’t kill for anyone but myself anymore.”

Loki swallowed, convulsively, his hips bucking into her hand. She tightened her grip so he couldn’t create his own friction. “I cannot – cannot-”

_Almost,_ she thought, though a part of her felt unsteady, almost uncertain. She could see his chest heaving. “Surrender,” she said, voice calm, implacable. His back bent again like a bow, and she pushed his hips back down with one hand.

“Please,” he said again, “ _please,_ I beg of you-

She stroked him again and the sound he made was nearly a scream. “Surrender,” she said. “You’re almost there, Loki. So close.” She took a deep breath. “Let me finish this.”

He surrendered. Natasha felt him let go, releasing everything he was clinging to. His eyes were open wide, pupils dilated huge, and he stared at her like she was the one solid center of a rapidly dissolving world. He was hers now, entirely, and if she pushed just the wrong way he might not come back from it. She might be able to keep him stuck like this, dependent on her, living by her word.

The power made her dizzy, but it also made her stomach tighten at how easy it would be to go that way. But she wouldn’t. Not quite.

“There you go,” she said, instead. Natasha loosened her hand and began to stroke him in rhythm, quick, rough pulls. He jerked with every one, desperate little noises spilling incoherently from his lips as he lay splayed out beneath her, broken open and pulled apart and bare, and she’d taken him down to this.

“Na- Natasha-” His voice fractured as Loki almost screamed her name and then he was spilling, arching off the bed, arms straining at the binding heedlessly until the rope holding him to the headboard broke, his hips bucking as pulse after pulse of cum coated her stomach and his chest and her hand. His chest heaved, sheened with sweat, even as his body fell limply down to the mattress, a little hitch at the end of every breath.

Natasha could feel him shaking. She reached up slowly and untied the knots holding his wrists to the bed. As soon as they were loose he rolled to his side and curled up, shuddering violently. She thought he might be about to cry. He was coming out of it and crashing, hard.

She moved carefully over and stretched out behind him, letting her hand rest on his hip, thumb rubbing little circles into his skin.

“What – have you done to me,” Loki gasped, his voice thin and ragged. “I can’t – I _cannot-_ “

“Shh,” Natasha murmured, moving her other hand to the back of his neck. His head fell forward, baring his spine to her apparently without thought. It wasn’t even, she thought, that he trusted her. Or he did, after a fashion – trusted her to hurt him. Trusted her to strip him bare and take him apart and then…

And then what?

Natasha wondered if Loki knew. She wondered how many others he’d done this dance with, and how many of them had bothered with aftercare – or perhaps how many Loki had allowed to bother. She could feel him still shaking. There was blood smeared on his skin, and on hers, but the wounds had closed.

_Leave,_ she thought to herself, and didn’t.

She combed her fingers through Loki’s hair and then to his shoulder, let them linger there. “You’re okay,” she said, quietly. “Just relax.”

“You’ve ruined me,” Loki murmured, his voice fractured, broken. “I am nothing. I have always been-”

“No,” Natasha said firmly. “You were already ruined. I just tore down the wreckage. So start over. Start from nothing.” She swallowed. “I did.”

His spine curved, pressing into her. His shoulders shuddered and she dug her fingers into the back of his neck. Loki breathed, though raggedly. _I’m not your executioner,_ she’d said. She wasn’t a healer, either.

Natasha rested her forehead against Loki’s back and listened to his shuddering exhales. _What are you doing, Natashenka?_

_What are you_ going _to do?_


End file.
